Trash Can Shinobi
by Aelibia
Summary: Sakura ventures out the back door to take out the trash and gets the scare of her life.


**A/N:** I have these little ideas running through my head all the time. This time, I thought to myself, _Well, what the hell. Might as well write this bitch down._

IvyAdrena requested the pairing and beta'd. Or rather, I screamed at her to pick an Akatsuki member on IM and she picked him. So it's my first request-not-really.

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As a somewhat experienced medical kunoichi—friend of Naruto, student of Kakashi, Tsunade, and Yamato, notorious pink-haired assassin—Sakura thought she'd seen all there was to see.

What a foolish notion.

And now the situation was too far gone to ever go back. This was her end. And if she was caught now…she didn't like to think what would happen.

Maybe she could—they could—no. It would never work. It was too ridiculous.

Taking out the trash was never a serious, life-altering event, provided she didn't let it sit around too often, but that had all changed now.

The memoirs of her life had a good chance of being placed in human drama, she gathered as she played out scenes of her death in her head. Most of them involved being held in someone's arms as she gracefully bled to death. Yeah, right.

This was just _weird._

No panicking. She was taught never to panic. _Don't close your eyes, Sakura! Don't ever close your eyes!_

What would Tsunade do in a situation like this? Handle it? Yes, and far more efficiently than hiding behind a tree clutching a black bag and one very shaky kunai.

She peeked. And, _oh, God,_ he peeked right back—still holding the lid and staring quizzically in the direction of her Lord and Savior Tree just like he'd been doing since she came out the back door, screamed, and ran behind Him.

Slowly he put down the lid. Sakura trembled.

Slower he began to stalk towards her—paced, really, in careful steps that reminded her just how dangerous he was, how easy he could kill her. She knew it, she just _knew._ How _else_ could he kill and impersonate..._him?_

Sakura hoped someone would come along to hold her as she died, or else it'd be too late. Maybe there would be a news team! And then they'd make a movie of her life starring—

The steady footfalls suddenly ceased.

Sakura slowly inclined her head up and up and up…until she was looking him right in the face. She scowled and held the kunai in front of her, hoping its very pointy end and her façade would deter him from killing her, or at least holding her in his arms after he killed her. That would be so awesome.

Somewhere in the background, a dog barked. He still stared at her, the bemused look from earlier never wavering. He slowly opened his mouth and spoke softly, probably trying to calm her and prevent her from at least _trying_ to rip his spleen out.

"What…are you doing…?"

Sakura huffed and puffed and gave a snarling retort.

"Look, you sick bastard. If you think you can fool me with that lousy henge, well you have another thing coming. He _never_ takes out the trash! Not even when I introduce _sex_ into the argument!"

A flash of understanding passed through the man's eyes. He sighed loudly.

"Well. I thought you'd finally snapped there. You know, being pregnant is no excuse to act like that and give me a heart attack."

Sakura froze. "What?"

Another sigh, bigger than before. "I always take out the trash on your birthday. Don't tell me you forgot. I've been doing this ever since…well, the point is, it's your birthday, and I'm taking it out, and…you should get inside. You're not wearing much right now."

Sakura lowered the kunai and looked down at herself. The negligee was _kind_ of small, but when she was killing someone, things like that had little meaning. They weren't going to molest her if she was dead. Besides, who sexually assaulted _pregnant_ women? She looked back up into the man's face, his eyes now expressing some level of concern.

Yes, it all made sense now.

"Well, I _am_ rather cold right now. Let's go back in and eat the cake. I forgot I even made the thing."

Taking his arm, Sakura allowed herself to be led back inside by her husband, who didn't forget to put _both_ bags in the can as they strolled in.

Sakura leaned against his bicep and smiled sleepily. "I'm glad _that's_ over with."

Kisame grinned.


End file.
